True to his word, Desmond was back on the deserted parade-ground by half-past ten, his syce pursuing him closely, a flat paper parcel under his arm. It contained a full-length photo of himself in the silver frame that had held his mother's picture, because frames were not to be procured at an hour's notice in Kohat, and he had a great wish that his gift should be complete: a lasting memento—such as the old Sikh would keenly appreciate—of their stirring ride, and of the fact that he owed his life to the man's remarkable quickness of ear and brain.
Rajinder Singh lived alone; for the Sikh, when he enters Imperial service, leaves his wife behind in her own village. His one-roomed hut was saturated with heat, and almost devoid of light. It contained a chair, a strip of matting, and a low string-bed, with red cotton quilt and legs of scarlet lacquer. Mud walls and floor alike were scrupulously clean. Sacred vessels, for cooking and washing, were stowed away out of reach of defilement. Above his bed the simple-hearted soldier had nailed a crude coloured print of the Kaiser-i-Hind in robes and crown; and on the opposing wall hung a tawdry looking-glass, almost as dear to his heart.
The Sirdar was nominally in bed; that is to say, he lay on the bare strings, beneath his cotton quilt, fully dressed in loose white tunic and close-fitting trousers. His turban alone had been discarded, and stood ready-folded beside him, a miracle of elaborate precision.
At the sound of hoofs he sat up instantly, his uncut hair and beard flowing down to his waist. In less than twenty seconds both had been twisted to a deft knot high on the head, his turban adjusted at an irreproachable angle; and, as Desmond's figure darkened the doorway, he staggered to his feet and saluted with a trembling hand.
"Sit down, sit down!" his Captain commanded him; and he obeyed, rather suddenly, with a rueful smile.
"The years steal away my strength, Hazúr. A little fever, and my bones become as water—yea, though I had once the might of ten in this dried-up arm."
Desmond smiled and shook his head.
"No reason to speak evil of the years, after yesterday, and the fever hath the power of seven devils over any man. I have been all night beside Denvil Sahib, who lieth without sense and strength this morning, young as he is."
"Denvil Sahib! I had not known. Is it fever also?"